


Hunter's Moon

by Smutstress



Category: Original Work
Genre: ABO but with real honest to goodness fictitious werewolves, F/M, Past Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smutstress/pseuds/Smutstress





	Hunter's Moon

1 – Claiming –  
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she cursed herself under her breath, tucking her hands into the pockets of the oversized wool coat as she trudged through the snow on the deserted New York streets. How could she be so stupid? She KNEW how close her heat was, could smell it oozing through the pungent odour of wet wool and the perfume she'd slathered all over her body, trying to mask the insipid pheromones just long enough to get to the store and buy some food. Felt the uncomfortable burn, deep in her belly and the unpleasant twinges running up and down her spine as her body fought against her iron control with its desperate need to mate.  
She tucked her chin into her scarf, muffling her clouds of breath. The wet, clinging snow had soaked through her too-thin shoes and her feet were numb, a minor discomfort she welcomed as a distraction. She kicked ruthlessly through it, venting some of her emotions  
But there was not a scrap of food in her tiny room hidden away in the blocks and blocks of rundown old brownstones, and she'd been working as many low-paying jobs as she could this month to get her through the week-long heat, saving every penny. She hadn't had TIME to shop, damnit, and now her heat was so close she was barely able to function. Someone in her position could not hold down a steady, well paying job. Not with the incapacitating heats coming every few month. No matter how much she tried to hide it, ignore it, past experience had taught her well that when her heat was upon her, she could not be around anyone. It terrified her.  
Even the non-metas could sense something off with her, and god help her if an Alpha caught her scent. She shivered, more from stress than cold. She knew her eyes were too-bright, almost glowing, a dead giveaway to anyone who cared to look that she was different, vulnerable. So she kept her head down, pushing herself to keep going, knowing she would not be safe until she had completed her errand and was locked away in her apartment.  
Wrapped up as she was in her own head, fighting against her instincts and focused so intently on her task, it was a total shock when her body slammed into something hard and immovable. She stumbled backwards a few steps, stunned, scarf falling away from her face as she gaped upwards.  
“Lord, I'm sorry, are you okay?” A deep, rough voice asked with concern, sending a twang through her already raw nerves. She felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder. Her body ached to curve towards that voice.  
“Uh,” she stammered, dazed. Her eyes travelled up, and up, finally resting upon a man's face, brow creased with worry. He ran one hand through clipped brown as he studied her with blazing amber eyes. He was tall, so tall, and beneath his heavy jacket and loose fitting jeans, her omega-driven lust sensed strength and power. She shivered at the combination of lust and terror.  
Locked in his gaze, she took an unwilling step towards him, driven by instinct stronger than her shaken self control. Her blood sang with the rightness of his presence, overriding caution.  
“Hey, are you alright? You don't look too good,” he observed with a slight frown, and before she could stop him, before her brain could scream a warning at her, his other hand came up to sweep her hair back and her scent wafted outwards. She saw his eyes darken as he inhaled sharply, his own powerful scent of cedarwood and fresh winter mornings overwhelming her. The adrenaline-fueled terror-pleasure finally cleared her head enough to focus. The way his hand tightened on her shoulder made her throat constrict with old remembered pain.  
“I'm fine,” she whispered hoarsely. “Really, I'm fine. I'm sorry, I should've been watching where I was going. I just needed some groceries, I've got the day off from work. I should have been paying attention. It's my fault.” She babbled in a panic, fighting against every sinew of her body that was intensely attuned to this Alpha, who called to her on a deep, primal level that terrified and intrigued.  
Before she could pull herself together enough to regain some calm, she was backing away from him as rapidly as she could, jerking away from his hand, stumbling against the pull of her heat. She was breathing heavily and his scent did nothing to help calm her. Alpha, power, relief it told her mercilessly, tightening her core and increasing the burn in her abdomen, pulse beating a savage tune between her legs.  
“Now wait a minute,” he began firmly, voice deepening with a commanding note, striding forward to grab hold of her again as his own instincts took over. He loomed over her, power and purpose evident in his tall, strong frame.  
Her fear won over desire as he moved closer and went to grab her, giving her a brief moment to clear her head. His dark eyes burned into hers and she felt caught, trapped and unable to think with hormone-driven lust tightening her belly, and making her knees shake.  
“No, no...” she moaned, vision dimming as her panic attack loomed, constricting her breathing to shallow pants. Whirling unsteadily, she ran, stumbling on numb, unwilling feet but determined to run and not stop until she was safely locked in her apartment.

***

Delirious, she writhed in her bed, soaked with sweat, tangled in blankets she kept trying to kick away from her too-hot body. Despite the heat radiating from her frame she was shivering in the icy cold air of her unheated apartment, unfocused eyes bright with fever and lust rolling back in her head as another searing pain shot through her body. Her spine arched off the bed as the wave of bittersweet pleasure-pain overcame her, seeming to settle directly between her legs and making her moan at the intensity of it.  
Finally it passed and she slumped back down, panting in the brief respite. Her stomach ached uncomfortably and she tried to swallow but her throat was parched and sore. Driven by hunger and dehydration she rolled off the bed slowly, almost crawling the short distance to the sink in the corner of her tiny, one room apartment. She stuck her head under the tap and groaned she sucked icy water into her dry mouth, feeling it's cold path down her throat and into her stomach, giving her a momentary sense of fullness that eased the hunger pangs.  
She sighed and hugged her stomach, grateful for the brief respite, but cursing her stupidity the other day. If she'd been paying attention she would not have ran straight into that man, and could have bought enough to satiate her hunger for the duration of her heat, while she was stuck in her apartment. Just the thought of him had her abdomen tightening with a mixture of desire and fear and she groaned at the sudden onslaught.  
She slipped down weakly to rest with her back against the wall, tangled blonde curls falling over her thin shoulders to hide her nudity. Her gaunt frame shook with tremors and not for the first time she cursed her condition, feeling powerless and weak. As she often did, she prayed for respite, wishing she had never been born an omega, pleading with a faceless power she didn't believe in to remove the curse that had afflicted her since birth.  
Being born an omega had been bad enough, tainting every moment of her childhood but puberty had brought her first heat and the first real sense of how abnormal and disgusting she was. Her parents, already struggling to raise three normal children on her father's meager salary as an accountant, had little time or patience for their youngest child, admonishing her often for her unseeming displays of omeganess as a young child. As she'd gotten older, she'd learned to hide those innate desires to please and tried so hard to be normal. She'd learned early to hide her nature, fearing the punishment she knew would follow. But she'd turned 13 and puberty brought her first heat.  
Her mother had found her one morning, when she'd come upstairs to see why she hadn't gotten up for school when her siblings did, and found her lost in the throes of her heat, body aching with a need she did not understand.  
She was terrified, sobbing hysterically, pleading with her mother to help her, to make it stop, but her mother had been horrified. Her father had already left for work so her mother had made the decision for both of them. Disgusted, unable to stomach her youngest child's nature any longer, she had snatched up her daughter, packing her meagre belongings, and dragging her screaming to the car. She'd ignored her youngest daughter's cries and driven her as far away from the city limits as she could, dumping her in the middle of nowhere.  
“I'll not have some bitch in heat under my roof,” her mother had screamed. “You go on now, get out! And don't you dare come back, y'hear?”  
Sobbing, lost, she had watched as her mother drove off. Not knowing what else to do, she had walked as far as she could through miles of fields and small patches of forest until her feet were bloody and her legs were so tired and sore she could go no further. Finally exhausted and overwrought with feelings she had no capacity to understand, she'd collapsed below a huge pine tree, curling up amongst the litter beneath it's branches, falling into a feverish delirium.  
But she'd woken to strange men standing over her, vicious intent clear in their eyes.  
She'd learned early to hide her nature; and for her own safety, to keep herself locked away for a week every month.


End file.
